Author: infrapoliticalreflections

The last stage of embalmed decay. by Gerardo Muñoz

The techno-administrative organization of the world that is showing off its force these days is only possible thanks to a previous devastation of the opacity of language, which ultimately connects human beings and the world. It is also the mysterious vortex of the breaking point of humanity into being, of which today there is only remembrance and scholastic teaching but seldomly authentic expression. When politicians, engineers, and social functionaries stubbornly distract us with open attempts to decimate secondary languages, prohibiting the annunciation of words through the legal enforcement of “place and manner” norms, and elevate abhorrent structures of linguistic commands and information as units of social interaction, it is obvious that the collapse has already happened. It also means that in terms of “Social” planning humanity has ceased to exist under the shadow of speech, to use an expression from Helene Lubienska. Hence, it is all the more absurd to confront this transformation with a strategy of multiplication of rhetorical codified languages that merely deepen the schism between the expressivity of language and their worlds. It suffices to say that any recognition of a para-official language of social interaction plays into the fictitious polarity of homogeneous globality and reified nationalism –  the constitution of print nationalism being the historical destruction of minor and dispersed languages of remote places and villages for the sake of the organization of a productive fictitious historical subject.

We must ponder what it means that the current imperial world order is one that does not offer a language, let alone the flourishing of minor or ‘vulgar’ languages as in the Latin Middle Ages, but rather an exit from language, which is the cybernetic project of codifying flows of information and looping inputs in which asymptotically humanity surrenders their languages. In past imperial adventures, language was either a tool to subordinate the world of the colonized, or it was a lingua franca of elites (administrators and the clergy) that allowed for the real existing languages in the territories integrated precisely by their exclusion or subalternity to the civilizing regime guided by literacy. The sharp contrast with today it is striking, since it is all too clear that the project of cybernetics, and its most recent avatar “Artificial Intelligence” (AI), is fundamentally an Empire that does not even require to rule and neutralize the “civil war over words” that Thomas Hobbes repudiated in the European confessional state, since its ultimate goal is not political statecraft, but the regulation of unworldly bodies of social reproduction. 

This is why some contemporary engineers have said that AI requires “a reconfiguration of the social contract”, with the caveat that it would necessarily be a “social contract beyond language and thus without politics”. The last social dispensation at the hands of engineers is the human soul, as it has been said. For this conception of language, it matters to only understand it as a semiotic reduction of the expressive human being to naked animality as the general form of the posthistorical being in the present. It is noteworthy that a great North American writer, Cormac McCarthy, while working on this problem of language at the Santa Fe Institute scientific research program (a central hub of American developments for artificial science and the unification of the sciences), reached the conclusion that language must be understood in relation to a virus: “a virus nicely machined. Offer it up, Turn it sligh, Push it in, Click. Nice Fit. But the scrap heap will be found to contain any number of viruses that did not fit…The facts of the world do not for the most part come in narrative form. We have to do that” [1]. The “unruly nature” of language, precisely because it does not fit into the biological pattern of virological model, must be mastered into an accompanying narrative of the social world, taking the copula and grammar as the final functionalization of the fictitious community. The artificiality of language is a civilizational decay that takes place not as heteronomic cooptation by technological advancement, but within its own internal abdication of its voice and mystery. 

It is precisely this internal threat that the American sinologist Ernest Fenollosa sought to expose in the most polemical moment of his posthumous tract The Chinese Written Character as a Medium for Poetry (Stanley Nott, 1936) – an essay that was restituted, let us not forget, by Ezra Pound precisely to confront the pauperization of ‘Basic English’ as the standard of linguistic use – in which he writes the following observation about the extreme filing of words: “Languages today are thin and cold because we think less and less into them. We are forced, for the sake of quickness and sharpness, to file down each word to its narrowest edge of meaning. Nature would seem to have become less like a paradise and more and more like a factory. We are content to accept the vulgar misuse of the moment. A late stage of decay is arrested and embalmed in the dictionary” [2]. Fenollosa could not have foreseen that the posthistorical epoch – an epoch of the most furious abandonment of thinking – there was nothing else to file in terms of the expressivity and poetic soil of speech. The course of American artificial humanity is not a human with a pocket-dictionary; it is something way more grotesque: an animal that can repeat and chatter sounds and symbols severed of its proximity with any linguistic inherence and the sensorial worlds. And it goes without saying that the engineering plan against the poetic soil of speech, as North American poet understood well, means that this war is waged against the last reserve; that is, the ethos understood as ‘the cave of everyone’s inner being’. 

.

.

Notes 

1. Cormac McCarthy. “The Kekulé Problem”, Nautilus, April 2017: https://nautil.us/the-kekul-problem-236574/

2. Ernest Fenollosa. The Chinese Written Character, edited by Ezra Pound (Stanley Nott, 1936), 28.

Kallopismata orphnes: the eclipse of language. by Gerardo Muñoz

In his most decisive confrontation with the scientific method and the legitimacy of science through objective knowledge, Carlo Michelstaedter introduces a rather loosely expression from Plato’s Gorgias to lever his position against the sufficiency of the scientific experiment: the “kallopismata” (καλλωπίσματα), which can be rendered as “embellishments” or “ornaments” that is constituted in figures such as matter, law, the final cause, or ruling principles (archein) that align the conditions for calculative and sufficient reasoning [1]. For Michelstaedter, the world of objectivation and scientific neutrality proceeds through figures of rhetorical ornamentation, kallopismata, which allows conquering the future; that is, what remains completely foreign and inaccessible to the domain of calculative reason waged upon a series of expressed goods. 

It could be said that kallopismata is the artifice that allows the absorption of those goods to the historicity of civilization as they undergo their own ‘corruptio optimi pessima’ a process of functional realization of their entelechy: the desert becomes a cloister, the banquet an academic, the artist’s studio a school of beaux artists…imitative technique assumes the name of art; any virtuosity assumes the name of virtue [2]. In a language similar to that of Heidegger’s, Michelstaedter speaks of the constitution of an “exceptional machine”, which positions the organization of the world through rhetorical deployment (and it was not by coincide that Heidegger referred to Aristotle’s Rhetoric as “the first systematic hermeneutic of everydayness with one another”), and hence the fundamental metalinguistics of any social economy. The exceptional machination not only deploys generic meaning from the irreducibility of things, but also organizes the mediations between the subjective plane and the objective reality. In this way, the rise of the hegemony of science in the hands of the ‘pioneers of civilization’ and a “community of the wicked”, as Michelstaedter calls the endeavor of modern scientists, can violate nature offering security and comfort to the totality of mankind. This will explain their civilizational endurance and the recursive positionality for historical self-amendment and renewed adaptation.

How can this community of the wicked achieve absolute consent and domination through their practice? The domination over nature is not exclusively an anthropological process extended outwardly; it posits a nexus between interiority and exteriority where the question of language itself is entirely redefined. This is why the most stealth invention of the practice of scientists for Michelstaedter is to “infiltrate life with certain words….on which meaning unknowingly prop themselves for their daily needs, without acknowledging them they pass them on as they were received” [3]. The ultimate experiment of the techno-scientific understanding of the world amounts to the elaboration of cybernetics (a term that Michelstaedter never uses but that obviously colors the effect of his general scheme of civilizational nihilism); that is, the unification between the phenomena of the world and the human’s sayable language. To this end, Michelstadter will emphasize this proximity: “Technical terms give men a certain uniformity of language. In  vain do the proponents of internally created international languages dream. The international language will be language of technical terms; of kallopismata orphnes, ‘ornaments of the darkness’ [4]. Whereas darkness denotes the harboring of language and its limit – and one can recall Fridugisus’ De nihilo et tenebris – its slow decay in darkness, kallopismata orphnes, outlives itself by the artificial luminosity that tears all mediation from the sensible world, now realized as fully alien to the appearance of truth and the truth of appearance. As Giorgio Agamben has noted, in what could be read as an esoteric gloss on the triumph of the kallopismata orphnes in our times, the technical question in the scientific paradigm is not merely a problem of the modes of techniques and instrumentalization, but more concretely a process that brings to an end the use of language as a sensible experience with the world [5]. And insofar as “sense” is only an idea of the sayable, it might as well be senselessness has been fully integrated into the infinite production of “informational differences” (“data run”), a final hypertrophied form of an unworldly logoi. 

It would not have passed Michelstaedter that the context in which the degraded notion of kallopismata (embellishment, ornament, decoration as adjectives do the work, but one should also register the kallos, a central tonality in Plato’s musical thought) happens in a rebuttal of Callicles to Socrates’ critique of force and personal interest as requirement for a conception of Justice. In 492c of the Gorgias Callicles will reply to Scorates stating the following: “No, in good truth, Socrates—which you claim to be seeking—the fact is this: luxury and licentiousness and liberty, if they have the support of force, are virtue and happiness, and the rest of these embellishments (kallōpismata)—the unnatural covenants of mankind—are all mere stuff and nonsense” [6]. In other words, for Callicles anything that does not have the force of principle or justification has already fallen to the level of “stuff” and “nonsense”, even though that nonsense is itself the use of language in its contact with the “thereness” of appearances. It is no coincidence that in his lecture of ethics, Wittgestein will press upon the nonsensical expressions of language in order to elude the escaping and impossible essence of language every time that it seeks to move beyond the world” [7]. In other words, if Callicles is the hyperbolic figure of the rhetorician-scientist, what is at stake in the inception of kallōpismata as veil of language is nothing else than the effective liquidation of its ethical dimension, which in turn transforms the use of language into a mere coding instrument at the altar of philopsychia, or, in the words of Callicles, of empty “unnatural covenants” (para physin synthēmata), depleting language to exclusive semantic and and metaphoric correspondence [8]. In other words, the ascendancy of the nonlanguage of the kallopismata will now entail abandoning the imperative mode in which language and life can enter a secret relation as defined by its use [9]. 

Can one even speak of human life after the ascension of the kallopismata orphnes as the civilizational matrix of the world? A life without the use of language, under the veil of kallōpismata, represents an unprecedented milestone and perhaps something beyond the rhetorical enthymemes. Perhaps one could elucidate this point in this way: according to Hans Blumenberg, the most important rhetorical form ever invented was that of the prayer because through its practice one is ultimately trying to persuade a God. In contrast, in the complete darkness prefigured by kallōpismata orphnes that dwells in a civilization eclipse – the rise and fall of modern secularization and political idolatry – the gods can no longer be posited as exteriority towards the taming of the gnosis for the anthropological need of self-affirmation [10]. Because the process of fictitious anthropomorphism has reached its own limit to the point of becoming itself an “exceptional machine” (macchina eccezionale), the mystery of the senselessness of language has lost the world not necessarily by becoming mute and silent, but by enslaving itself to the endless chatter and infinite consensus by the moral equilibrium of the social age that for Michelstaedter ultimately meant “the machinery of dispersing interests, where the paths of existence are no longer clearly traced, but become confused and disappear; hence it is up to every existence to create the luminous path among the universal chaos; as if were, an art of practical life” [11].  It is that existential path granted by the nonsense of language (soul to soul) that grants beauty in the event of appearance, that cuts through and overcomes the civilizational allure of linguistic kallopismasta whose radiant heliotropism can only result in the most spectacular of blindness. 

.

.

Notes

1. Carlo Michelstaedter. Persuasion and Rhetoric (Yale University Press, 2004), 98.

2. Ibid., 96.

3. Ibid., 98.

4. Ibid., 98.

5. Giorgio Agamben writes in “Sul dicibile e l’idea”, Che cos’è la filosofia? (Quodlibet, 2016): “Technics is not an “application of science”: it is the fundamental production of a science that no longer wants to save appearances, but obstinately tends to replace its hypothesis with reality, to “realize” them. The transformation of the experiments – which now takes place through machines there so complex that they do have anything to do with real conditions, but purport to force them – eloquently shows that the translation between languages is no longer at stake. As science that renounces saving appearances can only aim at their destruction; a philosophy that no longer calls itself into question through ideas, in language, loses its necessary connection with the sensible world”, 115. The attempt to escape appearance and experience to turn the world into a mimetic illusion administered by the aesthetic dominance of the pseudos was also elaborated by Gianni Carchia in his analysis of Plato’s aesthetics in L’estetica antica (Editori Laterza, 1999), 89-100.

6. Plato. Gorgias (Loeb, 1967), 413.

7. Ludwig Wittgstein. Lecture on Ethics (Wiley & Sons, 2014), 50-51.

8. Carlo Michelstaedter. Persuasion and Rhetoric (Yale University Press, 2004), 97.

9. Carlo Michelstaedter “Appendici I: Modi Della Significazione Sufficiente”, in La persuasione e la rettorica (Adelphi Edizioni, 1995), 142.

10. Hans Blumenberg. “Una aproximación antropológica a la actualidad de la retórica”, in La realida en que vivimos (Ediciones Paidós, 1999), 133. Philippe Theophanidis recently suggested in a discussion that we should read kallopismata orphnes in mind with the formulation  “God help me”—because I haven’t the courage to help myself” that Michelstaedter introduces in the chapter “Rhetoric”, 69. “Notes on The Constitution of Rhetoric”, unpublished, February 2025.

11. Carlo Michelstaedter. Epistolario (Adelphi Edizioni, 1983), 159.

Americanism and whaling. by Gerardo Muñoz

“What is the genealogical figure that best recalls this form of enmity in late American imperialism? The pirate.” This was written by Rodrigo Karmy, who sets up the ground for a timely inquiry. In fact, it is necessary to understand the accelerated processes that are currently underway as a civilizational choreography that only now finds an intense vortex of legibility. In what sense, then, can we speak of an order of pirates that have taken hostage the fleet of imperial politics and the empire of politics? At this point I would like to recall a brilliant and forgotten book by Charles Olson titled Call Me Ishmael (1947), which offers a perceptive interpretation of the essence and orientation of Americanism as an unbounded planetary civilization. Unlike many others interpretations – Max Weber on Calvinism and communitarian deification; Marxists on the Fordist mode of production and passive revolution; and even those that recast the economy of the spectacle and the psyche of mass culture – for Olson, who takes a necessary stepback, the civilization deployed by Americanism is essentially a production regime that first rose from the extraction of whale oil in the 19th century [1]. And as some economic historians have reminded us, before the first oil wells were found in Pennsylvania in the mid-nineteenth century, oil was embedded in the species of the sea, that is, in the fishing and cutting up of the mythic sea creature [2]. 

The veiled settlement of expansionism to which Daniel Immerwahr has drawn attention recently can only be understood if we start from the premise that the arcana imperii of Americanism is a maritime enterprise that takes the world itself hostage. This means that unlike the English trading companies of early liberal capitalist modernity, Americanism is no longer concerned with the neutralisation of a common space for the exchange of goods and values, but rather with something more terribly vast: the domination and total extraction of the sea and its species. Whoever rules the seas rules the earth; in other words, whoever is able to guide the threshold of the earth has been able to do so because he has already crossed every possible limit in the land surveying (agrimensura meant precisely the measurement of the land) art of territorial appropriation and separation.

The civilizational differential of such achievement should now be evident: this production regime does not have a territory or a specific mode of production as its objective, and this is precisely Olson’s thesis, but its sole purpose is to release an effective domination of the world. And only the world can be its most coveted object. Hence, it is worth remembering, that for Herman Melville – as he puts in the mouths of some of his characters – the enterprise of Americanism embodies in the secularized time of modernity something truly monstrous: nothing less than the consummation of the presence of evil; that is, the mystery of inequity (mysterium iniquitatis) in suspense and processed through the wager of the strongest whaler. How is humanity introduced and lodged in the courtyard of the mystery of inequity? Well, not only by fishing for each other, but by calling into question the very existence of the world. The religious imagination surrounding the fisherman as a prophetic symbol of salvation of the human species, as illustrated in a well-known plate from Herrad of Landsberg’s Hortus Deliciarum (1167), reappears in Americanism as an unbearable parody of all living things on earth. As one of the characters in the late novel Pierre (1852) says: “I hate this world.” And one could say that the inner belief in hatred is the fundamental stimmung of Americanism.

Thus, it is no longer just that we are hostages on the San Dominick, thrown into the groundless instance of the decision; it is something more sinister, lethal, and inconspicuous. The whaler is ultimately not the politician, he is the common man, a hollow-crowned qualunque, whose fate is shipwreck and whose tongue is commanding force. In the existential struggle between Ahab and the whale the only destiny is to caress the sea floor, as Olson says, will amount to something “all scattered in the bottom of the sea”. The post-mythic historicity of the flood reaches its definitive realization in Americanism as the genesis of a devastated world without an ark – propagated by the extinction of all species and all worlds and all presences, putting an end to the soft and untimely music of redemption.

A redemption that, not by chance, Melville only managed to find in the possible restitution of the original garden in the lands and landscape of Palestine: “Looks pearly as the blossoming / And youth and nature fond accord / wins Eden back…”, we read from the verses of Clarel (1876) [3]. Being able to preserve this acoustic garden besieged by the metaphysical force of the whalers may be the only ark left for us to land somewhere on Earth. 

.

.

Notes

1. Charles Olson. Call me Ishmael (Grove Press, Inc, 1947), 18-19.

2. David Moment. “The Business of Whaling in America in the 1850s”, The Business History Review, 1957, 281.

3. Herman Melville. Clarel: A Poem and Pilgrimage in the Holy Land (1991), 87.

The bruised souls. by Gerardo Muñoz

Whenever a professional politician today evokes the ‘soul’ one must be immediately suspicious, as it tends to be an automatic lullaby for “national unity” or a dormant metaphor in a flowing stream of empty chatter. What could the soul mean to anyone – say, those millions that have now for the second time voted fairly and squarely Donald J. Trump to the Executive branch of the national government – only capable of giving attention to a series of onomatopoeic pop-words that are now ingrained in the linguistic acoustics of the American lexicon (“Bitcoin”, “Tiktok”, “Woke”, “Prime”, and the list could go on). The ongoing catastrophe is first and foremost within the texture of language, which is ultimately why it is also an ethical decomposition in which all other spheres of practical action (first and foremost, politics) amount to business as usual with its corresponding rhetorical bravura.

Suggesting continuity might perhaps be an understatement: it is now a business that does not need any sumptuous or veiled mediation; refracted upon its own absorption of its hyperproduction of fiction, the defeat of the communitarian salvation of Calvinism can only be expressed as a self-serving an ongoing destruction and self-annihilation. True, it could be claimed that ‘Americanism’  has always been this; the only difference is that today, already well into the century, it moves in a vector that directly rejects the world while making a full fledged program of its own making. Only a Society that has become fully moribund can celebrate its own death and decomposition; while the emancipated and well scripted villains of the act now have no shame but to reveal how the ultimate object of their conspiracy was the obliteration of the Earth.

“It is the time of the assassins”, TJ Clark writes echoing Henry Miller’s unjustly forgotten book on Rimbaud and the legitimation of the social bond, in which the homo homini lupi discloses itself from any all possible contact in the metropolis solely dependent on ad hoc hyperproduction of justifications required to fully commit to the illusion of legitimate action. Only that now the time of the assassins is perhaps an uncanny dark night of those without souls, as in the deranged characters of a McCarthy’ novel: they are willing to kill and be killed; they are beyond any contact with language, and “what do you say to a man that by his own admission has no soul? I’ve thought about it a great deal” [1]. And indeed, there is nothing to say and nothing to face: in the soulless dark night there are only hunters and those that are hunted; there is integration or pulverization; there is killing and there is humiliation before an ever increasing legal nexus coordinating the acquiescence of force. But perhaps this is the real arcana of the American soul that is only shimmering through in all of its glory.

Someone like D.H. Lawreence definitely thought so when writing about the novels of Finimore Cooper: “[The white american] lives by death, by killing the wild things of the air and earth…All the other stuff, the love, the democracy, the flooring into lust is a sort of by-play. The essential American soul is hard, isolate, stoic, and a killer. It has never yet melted” [2]. But in our days it has begun to melt, to fragment, and decompose in a heavy storm of pain and despair. And it continues to stand in the long winter of American civilization (the castle of Frozen is the allegory of the epoch) that now finds itself at the epochal threshold of the end of growth, only left with rampant nationalist impulses of self-affirmation that can only deepen the nihilist tonality of anguish and self-destruction, and the emergence of the bizarre as Jamie Merchant notes in his recent Endgame (2024). 

In his Reflections on America (1958), Jacques Maritain maintained that the spiritual patrimony of Americanism is that of being “bruised souls”, a community that came into being by double exclusion (hunted by their religion and rejected within a national polity), which in turn allowed to be compassionate to human suffering, and thus the hidden meaning of the wound was to be seeing in the “role played by immigration and poverty suffered in the Old World” [3]. Hence, for Maritain the condition for the healing soul of America resides in its opening to ongoing suffering of migrants, the dispossessed, and those in exodus from the psychic pressure of a social metabolism gone sour in every subject of civilizational decay as Erich Unger had proposed in his Politics and Metaphysics (1921).

 It comes to no one’s surprise, thus, that the decomposition of the American soul departs from the overt opposition to migration, as a figure of the grazing over the Earth, that must be vanquished and condemned by a planetary gnosticism undergoing in front our eyes. The Chrisitian modern state enters in this way into a concrete and visible process of artificial desecularization showing that “the Christian relation to the State…is in mad hostility to all of them, having in the end, to the destruction of them all. […]. And it is, simply, suicide. Suicide individual and en masse” [4].

The stakes are extremely clear: it is for the bruised and the brute (some have called it the barbarians, proprietors of strange tongues, keepers of the clandestine lacunae of language) to retreat from the fictive proliferation of appearances, the artificialization of reason that can promise success as the ultimate pinnacle of self-destruction. Inclined beneath the shadow of archaic Penia, the bruised and incurable souls might not find redemption in the American wasteland, but they will land somewhere between language and world. Not a program but a moving conviction.

.

Notes 

1. Cormac McCarthy. No Country For Old Man (Vintage, 2005), 8.

2. D.H.Lawrence. “Fenimore Cooper’s Leatherstocking Novels”, in Studies in Classic American Literature (Thomas Seltzer, 1923), 92. 

3. Jacques Maritain. Reflections on America (Scribners, 1958), 84-85. 

4. D.H. Lawrence. Apocalypse (Penguin Books, 1995), 148.

Pasiones de Giorgio Cesarano: introducción a un dossier. por Gerardo Muñoz

¿Es posible seguir insistiendo en la apertura del pensamiento contra el cierre de la época incrustada en la elipsis infernal de la supervivencia ventilada en las sombras del desierto nihílico y entregada a los aparatos de la reproducción social? Escribiendo en la convulsa década de los setenta – y que algunos pensadores han llamado, no sin razón, el “big bang” de la transformación geoeconómica del mundo donde la revolución queda finalmente liquidada – la apuesta de Giorgio Cesarano en Manuale di sopravvivenza (1974) -y su antecesor Apocalisse e rivoluzione (1973) co-escrito con Gianni Collu – sigue constituyendo un esfuerzo desmesurado y singular por encontrar una bifurcación por fuera de las anquilosadas formas de la antropomorfización capital que entonces ya aparecía como como el destino catastrófico de la especie humana reducido a la compulsiva maquinación de las totalidades ficticias [1]. 

En efecto, como observa Cesarano con un gran poder de síntesis: el triunfo revanchista de la fuerza de la subsunción real, en realidad, confirma que el verdadero y único objetivo del principio de equivalencia no tiene otro blanco que la usurpación de un mundo domesticado y desprovisto de acontecimientos. Un mundo hecho a la medida de las necesidades de sus inmates, tal y cómo lo había previsto John Cowper Powys en una de sus brillantes pesadillas literarias [2]. Pero este es el mundo que hemos heredado y que seguimos atravesando, aunque algunas décadas nos separen de la provocación que a la altura de 1974 Cesarano alzaba ante las herraduras dialécticas de la época. En realidad, era una provocación asumida desde la posibilidad de la afirmación de una gnosis – algo que, como sabemos había aprendido gracias al diálogo sostenido con algunos representantes de la corriente bordiguista de la cultura radical del pensamiento italiano y de su estrato poético, como lo confirma en La casa di Arimane (1979) de Domenico Ferla – aunque sin abandonar la posibilidad de un movimiento en retroceso de éxodo, capaz de integrar un nuevo programa de emancipación de la comunidad real de la especie (Gemeinwesen) contra todas las celdas de la objetualidad y sus satisfacciones reguladas.  

Un arduo primer paso: la retracción como rechazo de la hostilidad generalizada contra la presencia. Así, en un momento de Manual Cesarano podía escribía: “Ahora tener origen como fin es un programa perfectamente realista” [3]. Un realismo que optaba por abandonar el produccionismo apocalíptico al interior de la filosofía de la historia del capital en la metástasis de sus representaciones sociales. O bien, como escribe en uno de los momentos más emblemáticos contra la reificación del sujeto del saber y de la conciencia en Manual de supervivencia: “…el decrépito-infante Yo se tambalea….Se desvanecerá, morirá finalmente, lo mataremos cualquiera sea la máscara que lleve en ese instante. Porque el fin es el origen, el nacimiento de una comunidad-especie realizada, el nacimiento continuo de la presencia coherencia, la afirmación del ser inobjetivo….El fin del Yo marcará el principio de la presencia” [4]. Volver a la prehistoria, entonces, para desembotar el dominio cibernético de la optimización biopolítica administrativa de la vida que domicilia a la especie humana en el armazón de la producción de lo ficticio. Así, el vaciamiento paulatino de la vida tendrá en cada ápice de la simbolización el sol irradiante de la justificación y de la expansión del verosímil retórico de una comunidad abstracta. Por lo tanto, para Cesarano, la embestida contra la reificación del “Yo” debe su destitución a la intempestividad de la pasión del pensamiento como contraofensiva ante el ascenso depredador de la fuerza de la objetivación. Justo en este umbral Cesarano inscribe la partida para la época del agotamiento del reino de las formas y de la crisis de la legitimación política: “No es una clase de lo social, entonces, la que realizará la abolición de las clases emancipándose, sino que la negación de lo “social” y de sus clases, efectuada por el cuerpo proletarizado de la especie, emancipará a la especie de la “sociedad” como comunidad ficticia, prehumana” [5]. Apostar por particiones de valor social (el infinito juego de la hegemonía without end) solo podía perpetuar el espesor de la más rampante agonía.

De la misma manera que la crisis histórica validada por la astucia negativa del proceso infinito de acumulación apela a nuevas artes de estabilización y optimización de la abstracción Social (el paradigma de la unificación cibernética que Cesarano logra identificar en un momento de reestructuración de los propios mecanismos de la gobernabilidad del liberalismo tardío y de la consumación de la mediatización de los entes) de su propia incesante reproducción; para Cesarano toda “critica radicale” – que debe ser asumida como crítica en suspenso, más allá de todo sujeto posicional y posicionado en la estructura del movimiento humanista de la negatividad dialéctica – ya no se caracteriza por funcionamientos programáticos preelaborados mediante el rigor epistémico de la vanguardia militante o justificados en la divisa de la objetividad metodológica; se trata, en última instancia, de constituir espacios sensibles que despejen la desficcionalización absoluta de un movimiento existencial y de estilo cuyo único programa histórico se constataba mediante la inalienabilidad de la comunidad de la especie humana: la irreductibilidad de la pasión [6].

Si la modernidad consistió en la domesticación de las pasiones con el fin de impulsar el rendimiento objetivo y alienado de la diversificación de los intereses diagramados en el valor, ahora se trata de afirmar la liberación del yo como fractal de la no-objetualidad de mis pasiones sin que ésta sea entendida como una mera compensación traducida a la autonomía postromántica del arte [7]. La pasión del pensamiento en Cesarano es condición hiperbólica de una erótica que desoculta la chôra de lo inconmensurable; esto es, la distancia que marca el encuentro entre los restos del mundo natural y el uso vocativo de la lengua: “….ese paso de acercamiento, es abrazo de amor y de lucha, parece tanto más absurdo cuanto más lo cotidiano parece desierto. Es en este movimiento que cada uno podrá, encontrándose en la persistencia del deseo resistente a la aniquilación objetual, descubrir en sí mismo la presencia de ese programa histórico que es la pasión y sentirse listo” [8]. La autoafirmación de la génesis inconclusa de la pasión descentra el nudo gordiano de el terror de una vida sometida al proceso de adaptación en el que la máquina y la humanidad se cierran sobre si mismas.

Pero la pasión es el recurso que valida el recorrido ético de la apropiación de mi existencia; esto es, no es ni condición antropológica ni forma en la que puedo orientar mi relación con lo inefable del mundo. Y dado que nunca sabemos realmente qué constituye el objeto de la pasión – al menos que este dispuestos a abdicar la pasión a la matriz recursiva de lo objetual – la existencia sólo puede darse en la disponibilidad de la vida misma cuando ésta coexiste con la laguna de la pasión y del asombro en el mundo. Dicho en otras palabras, de nada vale “vivir por una pasión” como suele decir el automatismo retórico del contrabando de las pasiones y de la propaganda de agitación social; el valor absoluto radica allí donde la pasión se deja vivir en el movimiento finito de una vida que no puede ser otra, y que solo se mide con respeto a las propias conquistas o encuentros que marcan el ritmo de un destino. En este sentido, como escribe Cesarano en la glosa “Erotismo y Barbarie” (1974) que incluimos en este dossier: “La pasión es el sentido de lo sagrado que se demuestra como tal” [9]. La tonalidad sagrada de la pasión es aquello que no puede ser verbalizado como imperativo o veneración externa para la promoción servil de los hombres-masas orientados a la infinita idolatría sacrificial que, en el curso de la secularización cristiana, implicó el triunfo ficticio del ordenamiento del principio civil [10]. Para Cesarano, las pasiones de la especie es el no-lugar – de ahí que sea una chôra, un lugar de contacto imaginal con la expresión que solicita siempre en cada caso el umbral del afuera – mediante el cual la vida encuentra formas contra la supervivencia y la agobiante auto-aniquilación que el logos descarga sobre cada exigencia vital. 

Sin muchos más rodeos podemos decir que el programa de la pasión sigue abierto en una época, la nuestra, cuyo régimen cibernético-administrativo sobre todos los ámbitos del viviente ha conseguido intensificarse con mayor ferocidad en el punto más álgido de nuestra civilización. Como si se tratase de un don fortuito, la excelente y cuidada traducción en castellano del mítico libro de Giorgio Cesarano por Emilio Sadier publicada en La Cebra y Kaxilda finalmente nos facilita una conversación que, a pesar de haber sido postergada durante tanto tiempo, regresa con la intensidad y el brillo de una voz entonada desde las catacumbas para confirmarnos que no todo ha quedado obliterado. Sobre esos restos se arremolina la ascesis singular de la pasión común de los hombres póstumos tras un mundo que se eclipsa. Y de este modo regresa la conquista singular de los encuentros, la despotencialización del ego, y el recogimiento de una morada en la insondable piel de las estrías del mundo. El dossier que presentamos a continuación sobre el pensamiento y la poética de Cesarano no pretende constituir otro gesto que aquel que contribuye, a su manera, a la continua “comunicación entre almas” al interior de una época que continúa encandilada en la fuerza de la objetivación y la producción de la impaciencia [11]. Y cómo intuía Cesarano en unos versos de su temprano L’erba bianca (1959): “…la buena canción tardó demasiado, pero había que esperar en el vacío para dejar resonar al corazón. Ahora lo sabes, hoy toda fortuna se ha disipado” [12]. ¿Nos hemos disipado también nosotros? Allí donde las pasiones toman la palabra y los tintes del alma dilatan su expresión las dudas para semejante interrogación disminuye y se disipa. Así, atravesados por el timbre de la pasión, moramos en la inesencia, pero sin realmente pertenecer a ella.  

.

*Esta es la introducción al dossier sobre el pensamiento de Giorgio Cesarano que preparé a raiz se la publicación en castellano de Manual de supervivencia (Kaxilda, La Cebra 2024), y de próxima aparición en la revista chilena Escrituras americana en la primavera de 2025.

Notas 

1. Willy Thayer. ‘”Fin del trabajo intelectual y fin idealista/capitalista de la historia en la ‘era de la subsunción real del capital’”, en El fragmento repetido: escritos en estado de excepción (ediciones metales pesados, 2008).

2. John Cowper Powys. The Inmates (Macdonald, 1952).

3. Giorgio Cesarano. Manual de supervivencia (La Cebra, Kaxilda 2023), 112.

4. Ibid., 49-50.

5. Ibid., 130.

6. Furio di Paola. “Dopo la dialettica”, Aut Aut, N.165-166, 1978, 63-103.

7. Para la elaboración de este argumento, ver el ensayo de Gianni Carchia, “Modernità anti-romantica”, en Pharmakos: Il mito trasfigurato (Ernani Stampatore, 1984), 9-13.

8. Giorgio Cesarano. Manual de supervivencia (La Cebra, Kaxilda 2023), 75.

9. Giorgio Cesarano. “Erotismo o Barbarie (1974)”, incluido en traducción al castellano en este dossier. 

10. Carlo Levi. Paura della libertà (Neri Pozza, 2018), 120.

11. Gianni Carchia. “Tragedia y persuasion: nota sobre Carlo Michelstaedter”, en Retórica de lo sublime (Editorial Tecnos, 1994), 35.

12. Giorgio Cesarano. “A un amico”: “So che per te di troppo tardarono / il bacio dell’amata e la buona canzone / ma bisognava saper asperttare / e lungamente e a vuoto lasciar risuonare il cuore. / Ora lo sai, chiusa ogni ventura.”, en L’erba bianca (Schwarz Editore, 1959), 39.

Vladimir Lossky’s third way. by Gerardo Muñoz

In his war diary Seven days on the roads of France June 1940 (2012), which recounts his itinerant vicissitudes in occupied France, the Russian theologian Vladimir Lossky makes an explicit case for the emergence of a third way beyond conservation and destruction, and its modern ideological avatars that led astray into the modern catastrophe; that is, the social revolution and conservative reaction cloaked under “traditionalism”. As it has been recently glossed, Lossky was not the only person from the East to be preoccupied with putting a halt to the eternal dialectical movement of destruction and conservation only fueling historical abstraction. Indeed, immediately in wake of the Russian Revolution, the poet Alexander Blok, in an epistolary exchange with Vladimir Mayakovsky, and anticipating the bewildering enthusiasm of the revolutionary energy, also demanded an effective exit from servitude so that “a third thing appears, equally dissimilar to construction and destruction” [1]. It matters little whether Lossky knew about Blok’s “third figure”, although it is at the same time impossible not to have it in mind when reading his own annotation in the June 16th entry of his diary, which does seem to offer a answer to Blok’s proposal:

“Nonetheless, revolutionaries are always in the wrong since, in their juvenile fervour for everything new, in their hopes for a better and a way of life built on justice they always base themselves on theories that are abstract and artificial, making a clean sweep of living tradition, which is after all, founded on the experience of centuries. Conservatives are always wrong, too…for in their desire to preservice ancient institutions that have withstood the test of time, they destroy the necessity of renewal and man’s yearning for a better way of life. Is there, then, a third way? Another destiny for society than of always being subject to the threat of revolutions which destroy life, or reactionary attitudes which mummify it? Or is this the inevitable fate of all terrestrial cities, the nature of their existence? In fact, only in the Church can we find both a Tradition that knows no revolution and at the same time, the impetus towards a new life that has no end. Which is why she is in possession of those infinite resources upon which may draw all who are called to govern the perishable cities of this world” [2]. 

It is no surprise that for both Blok and Lossky, the fundamental tension in the amphibology between conservation and rupture rests on the problem of “tradition”; given that, as Blok had also eloquently written in his letter to his fellow poet: “a breach with traditions is a tradition”. This is something that an artist like Kazimir Malevich understood well in his programmatic text about museums in the wake of the revolution (“On the Museum”, 1919): the turn into ashes of all the works of art altered their aura, but it left in place the topological frame and it still produced an image; in order words, the destructive artworks still demanded a museological space for storage, thus enacting new principles of the triumphant revolution. Understood in this sense, tradition is merely the retroactive accumulation of practices by the archē that orients its development retroactively from the point of view of the present with provisions towards the administration of the future. But, how did Lossky understand by the notion of “Tradition”? Rereading the fragment of his war diary entry, it would seem that this notion merely rests on the dogmatic transformations within the Church, and in this sense, a conceptual elucidation similar to the doctrinal exegesis not very different from John Henry Newman’s An essay on the development of Christian doctrine (1845). However, in his important essay “Tradition and Traditions”, Lossky attempts at defining the site and tension of the tradition, which he notes that in the language of theology it has been a term left vague and repeatedly undefined [3]. Lossky writes with sharp precision: “Tradition sometimes receives that of a teaching kept secret, not divulged, lest the mystery be profaned by the uninitiate” [4]. Thus, Tradition is the positive and textual scripture that registers the Word, but it is not exhausted in the positive scriptural authority. 

At the heart of Lossky’s argumentation about the theological meaning of Tradition, is the fact that it exceeds both textual sources and narrative mastery and transmission. In fact, the theology garment of Tradition belongs to the mystery of revelation shared in conspiracy, rumors or whispers [5]. And although, in his essay Lossky reaffirms himself that Tradition is the invisible intertwined with the Church – what keeps the “critical spirit of the institution” for the incorporation of new dogmatic definitions – it is nonetheless important to note that for the theologian, Tradition as “opposed to the reality of the word, it would be necessary to say that Tradition is Silence” [6]. In this sense, Tradition is that which is created and transmitted but that no one has the right nor the authority to speak through its incommunicable name. Is Tradition transmitted at all? If it is not through the written word, how can there be any continuity? This is the ultimate lacuna of the theological underpinning of Tradition for Lossky: Tradition can only be properly understood as the crafting of a “unique mode of receiving truth”; in order words, it names the contact between revelation and the witness who receives its ‘fullness of knowledge’, which far from mastering the totality, it points to “the external limit…the narrow door which leads to the knowledge of Truth” [7]. As Monica Ferrando has recently glossed from Plato’s philosophical corpus, any robust conception of Tradition should be understood as that which maintains an absolute inseparability between wonder and salvation, as well as bridging invention and received grace (charîs) [8]. One step at a time, we invent traditions whenever we are thinking through the abyss that separates our language from the inheritance bestowed upon us. Tradition moves in every ethical position of thought overcoming the pseudo-authorization of alienated and metaphorical knowledge of the past.

But if  the Church is no longer the institutional site for the keeping of the impossibility of the transmission and renewal of Tradition and revealed Truth – subsumed to the mysterium iniquitatis that works against the possibility of the rendition of the eternal life of a permanent vita nova  – it entails that one can still hold on to Lossky’s assertion that the task is to be attentive to the ossified expressions and reified appearances of Truth against the “living Spirit of Truth”. Hence, to insist on the restitution of the Church in our current predicament, would place us on the side of instrumentalized and subject-oriented salvation that turns away from the active kingdom that is the only passage from the world of the living to that of the dead. The traditionalists or integralists are incompetent representatives of the Tradition in this sense: as Von Balthasar once argued, they lack the humor and contact with the invisible to apprehend the mystery that arrives without solicitation, as pure depotentialization [9]. In a godless world of the secularized gnosis of political force – that is, after the fleeing of the gods – perhaps theology could only be understood as the path of Tradition of uncountable wonders and the event of speech that produces an unworldly sensation within this world. Tradition brings the world beyond its shape and legibility. In this sense, we are always participants of Truth that the world cannot retain, and thus keepers of an enduring secret that will ineluctably outlive us. 

.

.

Notes 

1. Philippe Theophanidis. “Alexander Blok: ‘A breach with traditions is a tradition'”, October 13, 2024: https://aphelis.net/breach-with-traditions-alexander-blok/ 

2. Vladimir Lossky. Seven days on the roads of France June 1940 (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 2012), 54.

3. Vladimir Lossky. “Tradition and Traditions”, in In the image and likeness of God (St. Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1974), 141.

4. Ibid., 144-145.

5. Ibid., 146.

6. Ibid., 150.

7. Ibid., 162. 

8. Monica Ferrando. “La libera grazie della tradizione”, in Un anno con Platone (Neri Pozza, 2024), 424.

9. Hans Urs Von Balthasar. The Office of Peter And the Structure of the Church (Ignatius Press, 2013), 403.

The pleasure of words: persuasion in Gorgias’ Encomium of Helen. by Gerardo Muñoz

In considering the reasons for Helen of Argos’ action, Gorgias’ Encomium introduces, after mentioning Chance and Necessity, the captivating force of persuasion that couples language and eros without remainder. It is nonetheless true that Gorgias is not interested in taking the role of public defender of Helen’s catastrophic actions (war itself), rather what he is after is the account of the word (logos) as a practice that can effectuate magical qualities, thus making “speech a powerful ruler…its achievements are superhuman; for it is able to stop fear and to remove sorrow, to create joy and to augment pity” [1]. The divine tonality constitutive of speech is not a matter of metaphors – even though metaphoric elevation might be in – but of  rhetorical art (technē) that triggers a somatic affection and movement when entering contact with someone else. For Gorgias, the event of speech is primordial and transformative; or, rather, it is only transformative because it can reach deep into the senses and the soul. And these are effects of creative enchantment for the human being. Not yet alienated from the mythos of nature, speech is the necessary artifice of ‘higher truth’ that is the life in persuasion. 

This is why for Gorgias there is a correlative nexus between persuasive speech and the ordering of the “mind as the ordering of drugs bears to the constitution of bodies”, which early scholars of the school of the Sophists such as Augusto Rostagni, read in light of the medical and spellbinding teaching of the philosopher-poet Empedocles, who might have been Gorgias’ teacher [2]. There is most definitely a healing dimension of the persuasive speech that compels a proximity between language and magic as the only possible – and possible because it is sayable – to access the inaccessible world of forms that Gorgias himself negates in his philosophical skepticism. (As we know, Gorgias was the author of a lost treatise of non-being of everything that Aristotles and other writers of Antiquity registered extensively). The triumph of deception for Gorgias was irreversible, a stated fact, which meant that only persuasion in speech allowed movement and seeking in the world. This is autopoetic dimension of Gorgias’ linguistic theory, which also confirms Michelsteadter’s thesis that there is no general science and ideal of language – language can only be created as much as the world in order to appropriate the ethos in life. It is no surprise, then, that a scholar like Jacqueline de Romilly has connected Gorgias’ persuasive speech to the sacred musical of orphism as a subterranean sensorial world before the rise of the legitimacy rhetorical koine of the polis. 

In other words, whereas the rhetorical order of the polis will be about the exchangeability of values through communicational units and coordination for the reproduction of social life, what is central for Gorgias, as reported by Sextus Empiricus, is that what is revealed is the usage of language as such in the exposition of the style of enunciation. Style becomes a formless reservoir of incantation and linguistic magic, which can multiple the uses while remaining neutral to a higher truth other than itself. As stated succinctly by de Romilly: “The sound of words is no longer mysterious; it no longer implies divine intervention or even produces irrational action. It is just style, and an intellectual display of skill. The only thing it appeals to is intellectual surprise, by stirring curiosity, attention, or excitement” [3]. Thus, the magical dimension of persuasive archaic speech is not suspended in the eternal polarity between truth and falsehood, but rather in the way in which reciprocity ceases to instrumentalize language to specific protorationalist ends previously crafted [4]. The “magic” of the event of speech liberates language from the fiction that there is something like an autonomous and  truth-content to ground its legitimacy. 

The persuasive texture of speech resembles a dress that must fit for every occasion of its enactment. This is why the Encomium of Helen ends with an affirmation of ‘self-amusement’ that folds the epideictic form of speech as a nourishment for the soul. The ambivalent speech can both cure and nourish, but on its other side it is also apaté or illusion in the world afterall. There is only apaté through the mediation of persuasion of the speech event, which means that any elaboration of absorbing the totality of the world through language can only further severe our distance from it. And is not at this threshold where the ethical question is inscribed? As the classicist Neus Galí asserts in a highly condensed synthesis: “In Gorgias’ thought, apaté or illusion is consubstantial with the world, allowing us to see it and communicate it” [5]. But a world vested in apraté is a non-world: it is only in language where we can move through different worlds, and persuasion is like the magical carpet or invisible cloak that allows us to zigzag between their nonexistent unfolding of our making. The impossibility of absorbing the mythos into the protorational dimension of the logos reappears in the eros of language as the remnant of enchantment that circumvents the deployment of justification, grammar, and the syllogistic mastery that soon enough will realize autonomous language as a representational science of logical proficiency. 

The persuaded speech or image – Gorgias even reaches for an ut pictura poesis mediation towards the end with an analogy about painters completing objects and forms – becomes the nonsite for those blessed souls. For Gorgias this is a supreme fiction; but one that insists on the irruption of passion in front of the ossification of what has been stabilized as a principle of reality. This is why there is a parallel between tragedy and persuasion in Gorgias’ fragmentary thought. As Plutarch records Gorgias’ words in one of his texts: “Tragedy with its myths and emotions has created a deception (apaté) such that its successful practionary is nearer to reality that the unsuccessful, and the man who lets himself be deceived is winner than he who does not …whoever has allowed himself to be deceived is wiser, for anyone not lacking in sensibility allows himself to be won by the pleasure of words” [6]. This ‘tragic transport’ enacts a “caesura in which the idea itself appears” (pure language)” [7]. It is this unfathomable and acoustic pleasure of poetic language that accounts for an exception to social exchange of  signification that will flatten speech to an uttermost decrepit and disposable utensil without passion, arousing neither celebration nor lamentation that allowed the human voice to dwell outside the chatter of the human. Or, as a twentieth century celebrated theologian writer will note in a Gorgosian tone: “For the truth is that language is not a scientific thing at all, but wholly an artistic thing… the tongue is not a reliable instrument, like a theodolite or a camera. The tongue is most truly an unruly member, as the wise saint has called it, a thing poetic and dangerous, like music or fire” [8].

.

.

Notes 

1. Gorgias. Encomium of Helen (Bristol Classical Press, 1982), 25.

2. Ibid., 29. 

3. Jacqueline De Romilly. Magic and Rhetoric in Ancient Greece (Harvard U Press, 1974), 20. 

4. Gianni Carchia. “Arte, magia, razionalità”, in La legittimazione dell’arte  (Guida, 1982), 204.

5. Neus Galí. Poesía silenciosa, pintura que habla (Acantilado, 1999), 193.

6. Plutarch. De gloria Atheniensium, Sec. 5, 351.

7. Fredrich Hölderlin. “Notes on the Oedipus”, in Essays and Letters (Penguin, 2009), 318.

8. G. K. Chesterton. G. F. Watts (Duckworth & Co, 1906), 90-91.

Social hostilities. On Julia Yost’s Jane Austen Darkness (2024). by Gerardo Muñoz

There is always something ominous and shady that harbors the apparently simple narrative worlds of Jane Austen’s novels. It has been too long since I have read them thoroughly, so I have to take Julia Yost’s word for it, especially when it comes to her extensive citations and character judgments in her most recent book essay Jane Austen’s Darkness (Wiseblood 2024) solely dedicated to the British novelist. But Yost’ initial intuition – the vortex of her argumentative edifice – is to make Austen more than a critic of the modern social sphere. Departing from D.W. Harding’s “Regulated Hatred” (1940), for whom the the civility of the Social (its overcodification and transmutation of norms and values) means the regulation of averted passions, Austen’s darkness reveals that that moral order is already an artificial and fallen production of lesser evils. In the nascent historical epoch of the birth of the Social, the rhetorical order of the polis will translate the alleged ‘elemental topics’ of community life into the orderly scene of ongoing civilizational depredation, in which accumulation is just one of its avatars. Towards the end of her book, Yost cites Austen’s unfinished novel Sanditon as the height point of the end of the world of manners and sentiments into an “economy” that fulfills the “demand for everything” (Yost 65). 

This is the moment in which the world will become the object solely justified by the movement of civilization itself. “Civilization, civilization, indeed”, says Mr. Parker in Sanditon. What is never clear in Austen’s work – and this is precisely the problem of the darkening hue that Yost wants to claim in her essay – is whether there civility of manners and sentiments proved insufficient for the civilizational force towards objectivation; or, rather, whether manners (and its Burkean ideal of the little platoon as corollary to modern liberal normative pressure) will become an indirect force within the new fabric of civil and state mediations. At any rate, this dialectical valance is an index of the dissonances of Austen’s social world, which allows us to see, in dialogic slow motion, the reduction of the taking place of the world into the transactional exchange of forms. 

According to Yost there is a cure in Austen’s medical toolbox for the enduring the social disappearance of morality and conviction to elucidate the question of personal “spiritual fate”: marriage. Yost is emphatic: “Marriage is the heroine’s only defense against darkness and with one sparking exception, it is an uncertain one” (Yost 2). The institution of marriage in the wake of the nascent post-confessional state will be a regulatory intramural test by the forces of reaction, and it does not take reading Louis de Bonald’s treatise on divorce form 1801 to arrive at this conclusion. But the sacramental institution is not freed from its own internal contradictions; after all, marriage will only be a regulatory social practice within the stratified and regulated autonomous sphere of modern society.

The aspiration to elevate the moral sacramental praxis of the pre-confessional state will be staged within the topological arrangement of the social space in which domesticity becomes a site of potential imprisonment that, in the words of Austen’s Mansfield Park, “will deaden the sense of what was lost” (Yost 28). As Yost claims, domestic space during Asuten’s age becomes deleterious and of potential imprisonment. Topological closure entails that the outside is only possible through the inside (think of conditions for formal labor during classical industrialization), and that the inside has become become exteriority ordered by general process of rationalization and the liberation of the ego, as Theodor Adorno explains in his short “On the Problem of the Family” (1955). In fact, the historical social trend that Adorno identified as “[the transformation of the family] as a mere association of convenience, the more it loses those features of the ‘primary’ group which until  recent developments were attributed to it as invariant” do not have to be circumscribed to the epochal crisis of the family in the zenith of Fordism; it is already in nuce in Austen’s desperate attempt to find a way to carve the depths of social domestication and biological maintenance.

For Yost, almost intuitively, marriage is a second-best (of course, she does not call it like this), because “poverty takes many forms; lack of a husband and children is one” (Yost 36). But can marriage absorbed by social totality provide an exit from the originary poverty of its anthropological decay? Even for Edmund Burke (as it was for De Bonald), domesticity is a triumph of anthropological freedom; but, only insofar as this anthropological condition accepts the decaying positioning of human existence both corporeality and linguistically. In other words, to speak of anthropological self-affirmation is already a retranslation of the oikos in an epoch in which the totalization of the “Social Man” will absolutely color the entire process of autonomization. In this sense, within the flashes of Austen’s world this color is oblique and hazily obscure. What does it mean to lose the appearance of the world once everything becomes legible, permissible, and exchangeable? Austen’s originality is to have been able to guide us in direction at a moment where everything was in the making. 

 Jane Austen’s Darkness is not only short but unpretentious; and, as part of lacking pretension theses here are rough and underdeveloped but they do carry weight. And some of them carry a lot of weight and durable resonances. This is the case towards the end where the “darkest” symptom of Austen’s scene of writing assigned to an effective degeneration of language that, according to Yost, paints Austen’s dark view of modernity: “Language genderates, as medical jargon makes a commercial purpose that folds itself healing purpose and the advertisement remedies become inexorable from the advertisement of maladies” (Yost 67). Yost here speaks almost in the register of Karl Marx writing in the pages of Rheinische Zeitung in 1842: “What is any illness except life that is hampered in its freedom? A perpetual physician would be an illness in which one would not even have the prospect of dying, but only of living. Let life die; death must not live”. The rise of the social figures of doctors and soldiers are expressive of the living body of the social fabric and its reduction into biopolitical administration. Yost plays with the idea that perhaps Austen’s last work is the revenge (this is perhaps too strong of a verb) against the expansion of the social mimicry induced by sentimental life (Yost 68). After all, the romantic subjective negation of the enlightenment shortcomings pays the price of arousing the vulgarity of competing feelings for the acceptance of social recognition.

This intuition unwrites the conceptual narrative regarding the taming of the passions and the privalining neutral space of diverging interests: the contract form of the new commerce society will tame passions while generalizing the social production of pain and circulation of hatred as sublation of the new. Thus the need to anesthetize language from its own capacity of the sayable; expiation will only take its form as either opinions or justifications. At this point, the sacralization of death and its unrestrained standardization will reasonably justify the condition for the overpowering of secular sacrificial history at that altar of abstraction (Progress, Growth, Freedom). Yost’s emphasis on Austen’s laughter as “salubrious” can be read as a comic exception from the stage of abstraction; the refusal of language to clog the imagination and the invisible into the codification of norms. In this distance, language embraces the pain of separation; and, like the laughter of the Thracian Woman, the incommunicable abandons the conceptual inertia of hostile protuberances of social life. And making way into the abyss clears up the heavy fog of darkness. At least a bit.

The decaying sublime. On Gónzalez Sainz’s Por así decirlo (2024). by Gerardo Muñoz

José González Sainz’s new collection of short stories, Por así decirlo (Anagrama, 2024) offers a magisterial elaboration of the ongoing nihilism that has absorbed humanity into an autonomous object of its own shipwreck. Throughout the stylistically intricate narratives, it is easy to see that for Sainz the problem is not just about the extinction of humanity – its decline and fall, but rather about stumbling into the spectacle as if nothing is taking place. The consummation of nothingness exerts itself into the very consciousness to the point that the death of the living becomes transactional for the ongoing fictions regulated by expectation and prevention. 

Obviously, these are broad strokes that say little of Sainz’s well-known narrative pointillism, in which not only every object but every distance is carved out and polished with striking vivacity (this opposition between style and worldliness underpins the sharp contrast of the process of absorption); but, there is a moment in the first story of the book that can arguably be elevated as an emblem of Sainz’s outlook towards a world that has ceased to be so. Without giving too much of the plot, the scene takes place in a plaza of a Spanish provincial town where a pseudo-conductor has taken over a classical music show and who will commit a horrifying act that day. The narrative will minimize the conductor’s act in order to focus on the mass of spectators who continue enjoying the spectacle with mounting euphoria. At the peak moment of the narrative event we read this elaboration on truth and music:

“Había leído alguna vez que la verdad es el auténtico principio de la música, y que está conmueve no es tanto porque complaza al odio como porque expresa las verdaderas tonalidades afectivas del alma. Eso es, porque su objeto es el alma. Pero si el alma está hoy desfigurada, se dejó continuar, si ya no es más que su propio espectáculo o su farce o bien ya no es nada y a lo mejor, puestos a pensar, no lo ha sido nunca, por qué no iba  a ser lo que oía la verdadera musica. Se convenció y no se convenció; es decir, se convenció de que no estaba convencido de nada” (Sainz 45-46). 

Reacting to his own bewildered reaction to the spectators’ absorption in the fictitious, the character of the pater familias realizes that perhaps even the musical redemptive quality – and that for this very reason that Plato wanted to regulate the distinct tonalities of the instruments in the Laws to charm the souls of the youth- now encompasses an immense rhetorical environment where elucidation of the sublime of art’s truth becomes impossible. As the irreducible communication between souls fades away, there is only a vicarious subject that echoes the resonances of the intruder conductor. For anyone that reads the story, it is quite obvious that Sainz is rewriting Elias Canetti’s figure of the orchestra conductor from Crowds and Power (1983). As a hypoerbolic figure of absolute power and the ‘illusion of persuasion’, for Canetti the gestural figure of the orchestra conductor embodies mastery of the objectivation of the world who cuts through the two sides of the moral predicament: what should take place, and what will never occur [1]. And very much in the vein of the kubernetes, the conductor exerts his power as the unifier of the events in the world. In other words, the dominion of the orchestra conductor is absolutely omniscient: he can not only order what comes out in every instrument, but he can also regulate the effects of the musical discharge into an enchanted uniform audience.

The orchestra conductor is the figure of an acoustic mastery where the price to be paid will be the collapse of the original sublime (hypsos) unto the autonomous form silencing the truth of the soul. This is why Gianni Carchia, reading Longine’s treatise of the sublime, defines the ancient conception of musical redemption a the condition of the communication between souls capable of repairing maladies while moving towards love (eros)” [2]. And the narrator asks rather naively: “But why can’t I not enjoy this as well? What do I see?” (Sainz 47). However, Sainz’s intruder conductor depersonalizes Canetti’s figure, since it is no longer about an illusionary act of generalized hysteria or collective hypnotism; the experience of the truth, granted by the by the sublime (hypnos), has become a matter of the steering of opinion, and the transference of brute force of decomposition. Ultimately, it is also the decomposition of language that turns the pseudo-sublime as a vessel of meaning. The movement of the tragic suspended produces a life without accidents, and the word of Lukács: “a flat and sterile, an endless plan without any elevations…dull repose in the lap of dry common sense” [3]. Through the orchestra conductor, the allure of animation becomes the last resort to bear the crushing weight of the flatness of fictitious living.

In the threshold of total integration of the spectacle, the dialectical force of absorption that once provided grounds for the aesthetic veneration of the work of art, unleashes the form of artificial sublime to endure the absence of beauty and truth once guarantee by the soul’s touch with the melodic. The fall of the sublime into a movable feast of a social attraction discloses the last stage of humanity’s errancy: living in the wordless night of endurance to merely survive.

It is no surprise that, in fact, the story ends with the pater familias retreating to his home to sleep. And from that from that day on – that is, after the conflagration with the orchestra conductor – he will become a sort vigil watchman for his son who, drenched in sweat, recounts sleepless nights haunted by nightmares of the traumatic afternoon. And he concludes: “Velar, que hermosa palabra” (Sainz 51). A trembling insistence of the pulsating hypnos in the psychotic night of a collapsed humanity? Or, on the contrary, a self-reflection on the kalos that has dissipated only to return as a reified word? Is this Sainz’s last attempt to hand out to offer the possibility of an enacted sublime through proximity – it is the proximity of fathers and sons, after all – that gathers the pain in a silent and defaced nocturnal vigil? We do know from Longinus that in some cases, silence can also be more sublime than any words [4]. It could very well be that, at least today, this answer remains veiled (velada) in the intimacy of its own untransmittable experience.

.

.

Notes 

1. Elias Canetti. Masa y poder (Alianza editorial, 2013), 559.

2. Gianni Carchia. “De lo sublime de la poesía a la poesía de lo sublime: para una relectura del Pseudo-Longino”, en Retórica de lo sublime (Tecnos, 1994), 112.

3. Georg Lukács. “The metaphysics of tragedy”, in Soul and Form (Columbia University Press, 2010), 179.

4. Longinus. On the sublime (Clarendon Press, 1926), 14-15.

Commentary on Monica Ferrando & Michele Dantini’s dialogue on painting and theology. by Gerardo Muñoz

The fourth issue of the journal De Pictura (Quodlibet, 2024) has just been published, and among a dozen of illuminating articles there is a very substantive and rich conversation between Monica Ferrando and the art historian Michele Dantini on theology and painting that solicits required attention, and that I can only emphatically recommend. As the very title suggests, the conversation is about the unity (and posterior historical divorce?) between painting and theology in the Western tradition, but it is also about another problem that never goes out of fashion, if ever rarely attended by a handful of scholars: mainly,  the light of the genesis of modernity vis-à-vis the aesthetic mediation with Antiquity. (Is it fair to say that this is an undeveloped path in post-Nietzschean thought? For now this is a broad question that we can only bracket, and it is needless to say that Ferrando’s own work already amounts to an indispensable barrister to take up this very concern). Be it as it may, there are two problems that I want to flag from this conversation — these are idiosyncratic concerns, as perhaps all attempts to condense a vast area of study obviously are. 

First, there is an important moment in the exchange where the problem of “perfection” is discussed as a watershed schism between the politics of representation in the wake of post-Renaissance development of painting. A notion of “perfection” that derived from the theological sphere was unequivocally different from technical mastery; it was understood as a problem of distance and proximity of pathos inherited from the great tradition of Antiquity and its canons of beauty and virtue. How else to read Poussin’s one of a kind theory of the modes of the Ancient in his famous letter to Chantelou? Of course there is also Hölderlin’s gaze towards the Greeks and Pindaric poetry decades later in the dawn of the nineteenth century only to succumb into madness. The theology grounding distance is the condition of possibility of ‘aura’, but also what Ferrando, at the highest point in the conversation, superbly defines as: “…pura della differenze temendo di riconoscere e irriducibili” (137). The liquidation of perfection into mastery of the “work of art” (and perhaps work should be overly stressed, which is linked to all the metaphysical dispensations over creation) implied that “distance” would become standardized, homogeneous, autonomous to regulated form, and finally absorbed unto the objecthood of creator and spectator in the coupling the force of secularization. Whether it is the vicarious image of the Hollywood spectacle, or the factorization of the socialized art object in the Russian avant-garde, the movement towards absorption is one-directional and open to the validity of an external justification of truth. 

What I find interesting is that the emphasis on perfection allows us to say that painting clearly put into view the history of an error about representation and its negation. As it has been noted, in the outset of Protestantism – for instance in Noa Turell’s excellent Living Pictures: Jan van Eyck and Painting’s First Century (2020) – there took place a new struggle over representation of perfection oriented towards “bringing painting into life”. The Northern superiority hinges upon the effectual perfection of a new legibility of the world that suspends the distance between thought, hand and the idea of pictorial praxis. The valorization of justified truth in perfection is paid by the occlusion of the truth of unintentional appearance. And the consequences are catastrophic: Ferrando at one point claims that the painting is about retaining the invisible; an argument that she has also displayed in relation to Poussin’s landscapes in her L’oro e le ombre (2015). In other words, the development of the dialectical autonomization of the very unit of pictorial space is integrated only be rationalized as an obstacle to be wrestled with and eventually overcome (an endpoint being Jackson Pollock’s outpouring of the line into a vanishing mist over white space). Prometheus unbound. Indeed, über die linie.  The “farewell to modern painting” (so elegantly trumpeted by T.J.Clark at the turn of this century) remains right on track with the only caveat that it did not began in the “age of the machines”, but at the outset of the secularization polemic over the impasse of the responses to the crisis of transcendence and the eclipse of myth.

Now, the second point can be stated briefly: the extension of autonomization implied turning away from what the tradition has offered; especially a tradition that is “pre-historical”, according to Ferrando, since painting is previous to historical consciousness and not the other way around (painting is always without a grounding principle). In the words of Stevens, this tradition can be understood as the “love ascending the humane” that attests to the authenticity of what appears-there in the disclosure of the world. A definition of painting emerges here, although not pursued in the dialogue between Ferrando and Dantini. However, for Dantini this means that the whole history of art / pictorial representation needs to be rethought and reorganized and possibly returned to its proper theological sphere. Of course, it will depend on how we understand the vertical axis of theology converging with the horizontal axis of appearance.

A counterexample here comes to mind, a sort of historical false exit: the Baroque, as a post-Renaissance paradigm of response to the crisis of the erotic and pagan image of the Renaissance paid the price of its exuberance, elliptical contortion, expenditure, and ornamentation through a reified and excessive field of self-ordered theatricality. As shown by the exemplary study of the Jesuit discipline in light of the modern state, La política del cielo: clericalismo jesuita y estado moderno (1999) by Antonio Rivera, the ascesis of the counterreformation Company required the split between director and practitioner that already presupposed the modern autonomization of spheres of signification. The baroque supra-theology (imago naturans notwithstanding) was also a reified theology whose anxiety about annihilation and total absorption of the community of the faithful would further drain the invisible outlook of the theos. Or to use the image favored by Carlo Michelstaedter: “the lamp burns out by the insufficiency of oil, but it drowns by having too much oil”. It is no coincidence, then, that the polarity of absorption and theatrically, used to understand the revolution of French modern painting, can only bring to life anything and everything under the sun of pictorial representation except its own sense of distance between appearance and what always remains unfathomable in the world.